Alone
by Jst27
Summary: Steve woke up alone. He lost everyone. Everything was different and no one seemed to understand that the last 70 years may as well have been over night. Or a different version of how Steve reacted to waking up in the future. Lots of Hurt/Comfort and Angst. I swear it is better than the summary is. Slight AU. Team fic. No slash. Broments, feels, fluff, the works. cOMPLETE.
1. Waking Up

Hi again everyone! So basically I was a bit disappointed in the way Marvel handled Steve waking up after he went in the ice. I feel like it would have been WAY more traumatic. So I wrote my version of it. It is pretty much already written completely, so you shouldn't have to wait long for updates.

I tweaked the cannon story line just a bit for the story to work how I wanted it. Peggy died a year before Steve was found (I'm sorry! But it had to be done). The rest of the Avengers were already a team, and formed slightly different than in the movies. And Thor's banishment from Asgard remained in tact even after he regained his powers. I get frustrated with Thor's character coming and going randomly. Other than that it sticks pretty close to cannon.

I also need to put in a suicidal thoughts warning.

Disclaimer: This is Marvels sandbox, I'm just playing in it.

* * *

Its been 5 days since I woke up.

5 days since I lost everything.

5 days since I was thrown into a future I didn't belong in.

5 days since I slept.

Its been 4 days since I left the shield medical wing.

4 days since I was introduced to a group of strange people. They were a team, like The Howling Commandos, but they all apparently had advanced abilities of sorts. They showed me a video of them in action. I was told one was Howard's son. He was loud and inappropriate a lot of the time. I didn't really talk to any of the others.

Everyone seemed to know me, but I didn't know anyone.

No one called me Steve. It was always 'Sir', or 'Captain Rogers'.

It's been 3 days since I was sent to live in a tall tower with all of them. It was everything I wasn't used to; sleek, clean, and expensive. It felt worse here. Not that it really felt better anywhere else.

No one seemed to realize that the last 70 years may as well have been over-night to me.

6 days ago I was fighting in a war.

6 days ago I chose to give up my life.

7 days ago I saw the young vibrant women I was in love with, yet somehow she had died of old age last year.

3 weeks ago my best friend died right in front of me.

No one seemed to realize that I felt completely alone, like an alien. Which was kind of ironic considering I was told I was currently living in the same building with one. Go figure.

Everything had changed. There was nothing I could grab onto to anchor myself to this world. It smelled different with pollution, greasy foods, strong perfumes. It tasted different; the food was sweeter or saltier. There were new sounds; the disconnected voice in the ceiling named JARVIS and strange new music. Everything felt softer or smoother against my rough skin. Everything looked different from the way people dressed to the smog polluted sunset I used to love to draw.

I had truly never felt more alone.

It had been 2 days since I came out of the room that Howard's son, Tony, had given me. It was bigger than the apartment I lived in before the war. That didn't count the living area, kitchen, balcony, and bathroom that I was also told was mine to use. The bathroom was connected to my bedroom. That was as far as I made it so far.

In here I didn't have to put up a facade of being okay. I could just let myself crumble, body and mind.

If I kept the blinds closed and the lights off I could almost pretend nothing had happened. That Bucky was asleep in the bed right next to mine. That I was going to meet Peggy that evening. That my team was just out having a good time at a bar.

But Bucky wasn't here. Peggy wasn't waiting for me. The commandos weren't out having a good time.

It was just me here.

Alone.

* * *

To be continued...

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review. Reading them is my drug of choice.


	2. Rock Bottom

Here is chapter 2. I again just need to throw in a **suicidal thoughts warning**. I don't want that sneaking up on anyone it might affect negatively.

Thanks for reading.

* * *

I spent the first hour in the bedroom just sitting on the end of the bed. Until now people were telling me what to do. I had orders to follow. The realization that I truly had no where to be, no one to go see, and no mission to accomplish was dizzying. I spent the next hour throwing up everything in my stomach. I spent the night on the bathroom floor, just staring at the wall. There was no reason to get up, to go anywhere. Sunlight eventually started streaming through the window. The light of another day. I scrambled up to my feet, nearly ripping the curtains off the wall trying to block out the world that had moved even further on without me.

I later found myself sitting in the corner of the bedroom, my head against the wall, legs bent in front of me, eyes staring at nothing.

I didn't know how long it had been since I moved. Sharp pains in my stomach told me I hadn't eaten in a while. Heavy eyelids told me that I hadn't slept for yet another day. A pressure between my hips told me that I was going to have to move soon to use the bathroom.

I slowly uncurled myself from the corner, muscles stiff and sore from disuse. Despite the pain I felt numb.

I used the wall to help push myself to my feet. The long walk to the bathroom door almost wasn't worth it, but I moved my feet across the carpet anyway.

I shuffled in, not bothering to shut the door behind me. I was alone, remember?

* * *

After I finished washing my hands I cupped water in them and brought it to my mouth, hoping that filling my stomach with water would quell some of the hunger pains for just a bit.

Catching sight of myself in the mirror above the sink, I couldn't help but stare back at myself. There were dark bags under my eyes. My face was pale, hair a greasy mess. I almost didn't even recognize myself. This is what has become of Steve Rogers.

Broken. Miserable. Alone.

How did this happen?

"Good evening sir." Suddenly said the voice in the ceiling, JARVIS I guess, making me flinch at the break in the silence.

"I wish to inform you that Mr. Stark has requested your presence at dinner this evening." It (he?) continued.

Great.

Sighing l hung my head, resigning myself to an evening of pretending to be okay. I was surprised that it had taken this long for _Mr. Stark_ to make himself known. "Shall I inform Mr. Stark that you will be attending tonight's dinner?" JARVIS asked.

"Umm... Sure" I mumbled, feeling weird for talking to nothing.

"Very well sir. Dinner will be served in the communal living area on the 64th floor in half an hour." He finished.

Nodding slightly to myself I turned to the most elaborate shower I had ever seen. After fumbling with all of the nobs and buttons I finally got it going on a relatively warm setting.

I slowly pulled off the to soft sweats I was wearing and climbed in, letting the water loosen my stiff muscles. I leaned my head against the cold wall, giving myself one final moment of weakness before stuffing Steve Rogers into a sad little box inside myself and shutting the lid tightly.

It was Captain America that stepped out of the shower, dried off, found a reasonable outfit in the giant stocked closet, and walked out of the bedroom for the first time in 2 days.

I made it all the way down the hallway and into the elevator before the façade cracked. It split right down the middle and Steve Rogers came spilling back out into the world.

 _What was I doing?_

I was preparing for dinner like I prepared for battle. It _felt_ like I was going to war, but a war I was nowhere near ready to fight. I couldn't breathe in the tiny room. There wasn't enough air.

Instead of pressing for the 64th floor where I was supposed to be heading my shaky hands pushed the last button on the list. The elevator sprang into action flying up and up until it slowed and came to a stop with a quiet Ping.

I stumbled out before the doors were all the way open and staggered up the final flight of stairs to the roof access door. Slamming it open I gulped in the cool night air.

I didn't want this. I didn't want this world where everyone knew my story, but no one knew me. I wanted my home. I wanted to take Peggy out for our date, dance until our feet hurt. Come back home and tell Bucky how it went. I wanted to know that the commandos were behind me always watching my back. I wanted to be with them. I hung my head, feeling tears on my face for the first time since I woke up.

They were all dead. I think I wanted that too. To be dead. To leave this world and be with them. I didn't belong here anymore. I looked up, realizing for the first time where I actually was.

I stumbled my way across the rooftop to the edge. Looking over I saw people walking far below on the sidewalk. They looked like tiny little ants.

I sat on the edge of the thick cement railing and slung my legs over one at a time. It felt like sitting on the edge of the world. I closed my eyes and pictured Peggy's beautiful smiling face. Bucky laughing at his own joke. The commandos sitting around a fire, Dum Dum singing a happy song.

I was ready to be with them.

Then the roof access door slammed open behind me. I heard several pairs of hurried feet come to a stop just after.

"Shit." I heard someone curse behind me.

I dropped my head and shoulders.

Couldn't my last moments on Earth be spent in peace? Please?

"Hey Cap. What cha doin'?" I heard in a forced light voice behind me.

"Please just leave me alone." I begged. My voice already sounded dead.

"Sorry Captain, we can't do that." a different voice said.

Anger bubbled up inside of me.

"My name is Steve!" I shouted. There was a pause, then I heard shuffling feet behind me. I tensed.

Turning my shoulders and head I glared behind me. Four people stood there. I'd been introduced to them all before, but I couldn't care enough to remember any of their names at the moment. Whoever had moved must have stopped because they all stood frozen staring at me. "Leave. Me. Alone." I growled at them.

"We left you alone for 2 days. It doesn't seem to have done you much good." The one with short spiky hair said.

Tears were still flowing, cold against my cheeks. They weren't going anywhere. I turned beck out to the empty air in front of me. If they wouldn't leave I guess I would.

I leaned foreword closing my eyes, letting gravity take me. Then I was flying through the air, but the opposite way I had intended. Hard medal arms were wrapped around me. Then I felt cement collide harshly against my back. There was a solid weight on top of me that I probably could have moved if I wanted to, but what was the point?

This world had dug its ugly claws into me and refused to let me leave for some reason.

A guttural scream ripped its way out of me. Heavy gasping sobs quickly followed. The weight moved off of me and I curled up on my side letting the agony swallow me whole.

"Please just let me go!" I got out between sobs. "I just- I just want to be with them! Please let me be with them. Please." I begged.

I could see blurry shapes move in and kneel in front of me, the tears in my eyes distorting them. I felt a warm hand pressed to the side of my head. I could hear muffled words, but I couldn't understand them over the sounds of the sobs ripping out of my chest.

I was drowning again. Maybe I would get my wish after all, because I felt like I was dying.

The hand on my head disappeared and one of the blurry shapes left. Good. Maybe they would all leave. But they didn't. None of them moved away from me. There was still someone talking, but I didn't care enough to even try and listen.

The blurry shape of a person came back, and I felt a warm hand on my arm before a small pinch. A cold sensation started trickling up my arm. My whole body started to feel heavy before I felt drowsiness creep forward. The sobs started to slow and I my eyes fell shut.

No!

I jerked myself back. I didn't want to sleep.

"It's okay Steve. Shh shh. Don't fight it." The hand came back to the side of my head, thumb gently rubbing back and forth. Bucky used to do that when I was really sick. Looking up desperately I saw a man with messy brown hair above me. Kind eyes blurred in and out of focus. _Bruce_ , my mind whispered to me.

I could feel my body betraying me. I could no longer hold my head up off the ground and my eyelids were growing more and more heavy.

Finally letting them close I felt myself drift until my world went black.

* * *

Consciousness came back slowly. I had vague flashes of strong arms lifting me from the ground. A wet cloth gently wiping across my cheeks. Quiet murmured conversations above me.

My eyes felt like they were glued shut. I could feel a soft feathery mattress underneath me, and I was becoming more and more aware of a sharp pounding in my head that came with every heartbeat. My head was spinning and my stomach was doing flip flops.

I tried to lift my arms to grab my head, stop it from spinning, but I was too disconnected from my body. I only managed to lift them a few inches off the bed before giving up.

 _What the hell did they do to me?_

There was a rustle of clothes next to me.

"Steve?"

Finally prying my eyes open, I looked to my right. Bruce sat next to the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

He gave a small one sided grin in greeting. "How are you feeling?" he asked me.

An undignified groan was my only answer. Opening my eyes definitely didn't help with the dizziness. Or the pounding in my head. Or the nausea. Or trying to ignore reality.

Bruce scrunched up his nose. "Sorry about that. I gave you a sedative. I had to give you a high dose to compensated for your high metabolism. I guess I may have over done it just a bit. It might make you feel crummy for just a bit but don't worry, it will pass."

I gave a small nod before turning my head away from him.

How did I get this low? What happened to the kid from Brooklyn who didn't know how to back down from a fight? He would be disgusted by me now.

 _I tried to kill myself._

I was going to be sick.

I desperately tried to sit up but only managed to roll myself off the side of the bed onto my hands and knees, my right side leaning heavily against the side of the bed. Bruce's arm wrapped around my upper body, while somehow producing a waste bin from out of nowhere and shoving it under my face just in time go catch the stomach acid burning its way up my throat.

Hard wrenches strained my back and stomach. Each heave made my head feel like it was going to explode. My whole body felt like it was rebelling against itself. The wretches eventually turned to dry heaves. There really wasn't much to actually throw up. All the while Bruce kneeled by my side rubbing my back and keeping me more or less upright.

"It's okay. Just try to calm down a bit. Deep breaths." Bruce said.

" 's not okay." I mumbled more to myself than him, with my face still hovering over the waste basket. I heard him sigh and the hand rubbing my back stopped at my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"I know." was all he said.

I knew that I should be embarrassed. I was a quivering mess, puking my guts out in front of a stranger. But I just didn't care. I guess that shows just how far I had fallen.

The dry heaves had pretty much stopped by now, my rebellious stomach finally deciding its attempts were useless. I pulled one of my legs across the ground underneath me and dropped down gracelessly onto my butt, leaning back against the bed. Bruce got up walked into the bathroom, coming back with a cup in his hand. He held it out to me wordlessly. Taking it from him with shaky hands, I took a sip of water from it and swished it around my mouth before spitting it back out in the waste basket. It helped to get some of the sour taste out of my mouth. I took another small sip, this time swallowing it, before setting the cup on the ground beside me.

He reached down and grabbed the bag out of the waste basket and put it right inside the bathroom door before closing it. Walking back over, he sat down beside me on the ground. Our shoulders weren't touching, but I could feel his body heat next to me.

We just sat in silence for a while. Bruce had a very calm presence about him. He kind of reminded me of Dr. Erskine.

The dizziness had eased some, but the headache was still going strong. I put my head back against the bed and closed my eyes, still trying to come back to myself.

Did I really want to die? Maybe not. But how was I supposed to get passed this? How was I suppose to leave everything behind? I had lost my life, but was expected to keep living.

I felt my eyes start to sting, and my chest started to get tight, a breath getting caught in my throat.

"Steve, I think we should talk about what happened." Bruce finally said, interrupting my inner downward spiral.

I shook my head. It was still too raw. I heard the rustle of Bruce's hair against the mattress behind us as he nodded.

"Ya, I get it. Do you mind just listening then?" He asked. I guess I could do that much. This man had been very kind to me. And he called me Steve. I lifted my head and looked at him. He took that as a yes.

"We live our lives in stages Steve. When you are done with one you move onto the next. Sometimes the transition is clear and easy, sometime it isn't. Sometimes you have to go through hell to get to the next. But _getting_ there is what counts. I know you lost everything, everyone, but that doesn't mean you have to stop. This, here," he gestured around us with his hands, "can be the start of your next stage."

He made it sound so simple. Just move on to the next stage. I broke eye contact with him, the pathetic mess that I am and whispered, "But what if I don't want to? What if I don't want to leave them behind? What if I can't?"

Bruce took a deep breath, and reached up to put his hand on my shoulder.

"You believe in God, right?" he asked. I gave a small nod. "If you truly believe then you know they are in a better place. Don't feel bad for leaving the ones you loved in the past. They lived their lives, now it is your turn. They have moved on from this world, but you will see them again. And if you can't let them go, then take them with you here." he said, sliding his hand down over my heart.

"I know it hurts." He continued, "I can't imagine how you must feel, but all of us, this team, we started over with each other. I wasn't doing much better than you when they found me. I had lost everything and I was ready for it all to just end. But Tony, Natasha, Clint, they found me just like we found you, and they helped me. Then I was here to help when Thor needed our help. And now I am here in this room, ready to help you. None of us were in good places when we found each other. We all still have our struggles, but we do it together. We get through it. We always keep fighting."

That stuck a cord in me. I hadn't thought of it that way. I have been fighting my entire life, whether it was asthma, bullies, or Nazis I always fought back. But those were all things I could physically fight. I looked back at him, meeting his eyes.

"How? I've never fought a battle like this before. It's just me in here. Alone." I asked him, praying he could give me answers. I felt more tears start to run down my face.

"It's different for everyone. You just have to take it one day at a time and every day you get out of bed in the morning is a win. Sometimes that is the hardest part. But the most important thing is that you do it. And to not do it alone. That was the mistake most of us made before we found each other. Together we are stronger." He pushed himself up off the ground, his joins popping, and stood up, "and today, your fight is to get up, out of this room, and eat some food. That's all for right now, the rest can wait. Can you do that with me Steve?" he finished, reaching a hand out to me.

I could do that. I think that was doable.

I wiped the tears off my face and reached up and took his hand. He pulled me to my shaky feet and together we walked out of the bedroom. The rest of the team were waiting outside spread throughout the room. They all looked up at us. I expected to see pity and unease, but I could see only concern, and understanding on their faces. Bruce put his hand on my shoulder and whispered behind me "You're not alone."

For the first time since I woke up, I believed it.

* * *

For anyone that caught that supernatural fandom reference *high five*. The 'Always keep fighting' campaign and 'Your not alone' campaigns are amazing. (And oddly enough put in this story completely by accident).

We will get one more chapter.

PLEASE *falls on my hands and knees at your feet* leave a review. I beg of you. Tell me it sucks. Tell me it is awesome. Heck, you can tell me about your day if you would like.

Thanks again for reading!


	3. Home

Epilogue:

It had been a year since that day. There were good days and bad days. Happy days and sad days. Days when getting out of bed in the morning really did seem impossible. But every time I fought through it. When it all seemed to be too much there was always someone there.

Bruce with his calm presence and helpful words. He never seemed to get tired of me, even when I was sick of myself. He could always make this crazy new world sound simple and less scary than it seemed. I could never thank him enough for the help he had given me that night. He had literally saved my life.

Thor was always ready to spar when I just needed something to physically fight. It was nice having someone I didn't have to worry about hurting, but once I got it all out of my system we could talk about life together. He came across as just the muscle of the group, but he had lived a long life and he was very wise.

Natasha was like Peggy in a lot of ways. She was head-strong and blunt. She wouldn't dance around the issues. When I would get too wrapped up in myself, she could always snap me out of it.

Clint was the most easy-going man I had ever met. He could always make a situation lighter without making it seem less important. He was fiercely loyal to his friends, they all were, but Clint was always watching, making sure everything was okay. He was always the first to step forward to defend us, consequences be dammed.

Tony. Well Tony was Tony. He could talk for hours without any help from my side of the conversation, yet always ready to listen. It didn't matter that I usually didn't understand half of what he was talking. It was nice to be able to just be with someone. No pressure.

They all eventually told me their stories.

Clint and Natasha met first. Clint was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and Natasha was his target. He said that he had expected to find a cold blooded killer in Natasha, but instead found someone lost and alone. There was no malice in her eyes. He instead brought her back to S.H.I.E.L.D. They became a team. Natasha was reluctant to work for S.H.I.E.L.D, worried she was just trading one tyrant for another.

They were sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. to try and recruit Tony after he first created Ironman. This backfired when Tony decided to recruit them instead. Tony wanted to do good. He wanted to fix what what people around him had used him to tear apart. Natasha agreed wanting freedom from orders and the politics of it all. Leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. was a much harder decision for Clint. All he ever knew was military, S.H.I.E.L.D, and following orders. But he was lost, no longer able to trust S.H.I.E.L.D's assignments after Natasha.

After a few months together they heard about Bruce. He had an accident in his lab, causing his mutation. He almost killed his girlfriend, tore apart his lab, and left a path of destruction behind him. He had half the U.S. government after him. By then Tony, Natasha, and Clint had taken down several terrorist and drug smuggling rings, and had built a bit of a reputation. S.H.I.E.L.D. asked them to work with them in finding Banner. It took over a year to track him down. The 'other guy' was tearing apart a small Eskimo village. There was nothing they could do to stop it. They just stayed close and protected what they could until he eventually turned back into Bruce. They later found out that Bruce had tried to kill himself, accidentally unleash the other guy. Bruce was taken into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody and his life was looking pretty bleak until Tony convinced S.H.I.E.L.D. that he could be an asset. They let Tony take Bruce to the tower. Tony saved him. Protected him.

I could relate a bit to Thor's story. He was cast from his home planet, striped of his powers and sentenced to live a mortal on Earth. Even after he saved Earth from his brother and earned his powers back he was not aloud to return home. The sentence was final. He could never go home. Having proven themselves with Bruce, S.H.I.E.L.D. sent him here.

We had all lost so much, but we all managed to gain some back. Somehow we had become a family. I still missed Peggy, Bucky, The Howling Commandos, the life I once lived, but Bruce was right. I was able to find a place for them in my heart. With these people I was able to build a new life. A happy life.

I was able to find a home.


End file.
